She gives me a tragic smile. “She’s resting from her injuries.” At that, she winces. The memories of what happened earlier today flood through me in a fresh wave of pain.

So it did happen, then. Constantine had made good on his word—Caitoman made sure of it. A whisper of a sob escapes me, and my knees really do give way. I sink to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Talin,” the mayor murmurs to me as she kneels before me.

“When can I see her?” I sign, not knowing how else to communicate with her.

The mayor shakes her head at me, indicating she doesn’t understand, before reaching into her robe and pulling out a small booklet of paper and an ink pen. “Write the best you can,” she whispers.

I stare at her, suspicious, before taking the paper and pen and gathering my limited knowledge of written Karenese.

When? See mother? I write.

“After the arena,” she replies.

The spark of anger in me rises again, and I clench my jaw. I don’t even bother writing anything down for her this time—instead, I shove a finger at her chest and then gesture to myself, putting my hands up in impatience.

“No, you’re going to wait,” the mayor snaps. “It’s too dangerous. You think it was easy for me to make my way to you here, to give you this news? The Premier can feel his power being squeezed all around him, can sense an imminent collapse. He’s never more dangerous than he is now. He’s—”

The mayor bows her head. “I’m sorry, Talin. Constantine … he’s…” She pauses in her words and shakes her head. In that gesture, I see an ocean of regret, a heartbreak that’s lasted decades, born from her watching a little boy grow up into the cruel image of his own father.

“Raina de Balman is missing,” she finally says in a low voice.

An icy chill runs down my spine. This is the real reason why she’s here, and why it’s too dangerous for me to see my mother right now.

When? I write.

“Since last night. She has not responded to my letters nor opened the lab institute’s gates to see me. I’m greeted only by a lab worker when I go there.”

I think of the ring, of Caitoman’s ties with Raina, and my eyes darken at the mayor. General Caitoman? I write.

The mayor frowns at me. “What do you mean?”

The anger comes out in my harsh writing. You work with General Caitoman. You all work for him.

She stares at me, as if not quite believing that she understands what I’m writing. “Why do you think Caitoman has anything to do with our plans?” she whispers.

I stare coldly at her. Then I sketch a quick, rough image of the ring, with sunrays on it. Above it, I write, Raina’s ring. Caitoman’s ring. Raina’s ring is the same ring that Caitoman gave to the soldier that tortured my mother.

I don’t know what I expect to see on the mayor’s face. Realization, perhaps, that I’ve uncovered their ruse. Fear of me.